I’ve been hiding myself in the days,
watching them slide past
like the scenery on a road trip…
Burying myself in work,
busying my mind every way possible.
Getting lost in music
and wayward thoughts
is too much a pastime now,
pretending that all is well
carrying on like life didn’t just
Wishing you were still here
[While] still refusing to acknowledge
that you’re actually not anymore;
All to avoid the deep and lancing blows
of sorrow’s jackknife
and the chunks losing you
cut from me.
I have these gaping holes
in my spirit and memory
and the vague yet poignant sense that
nothing is normal anymore.
I spend my days chasing sameness
not wanting to face the change truth brings
or admit how much
I miss you already.